I drove slowly on the unfamiliar street to get to Blake's house.

Yesterday, Blake had wanted me to come over his place to help him out with the stoichiometry exercises the teacher had given us in Chemistry, but he had a football practice, so we had agreed for me to come the next day, which was now.

I had my window down. It was a pretty sunny day, we were still in early September after all, and the wind blew my hair everywhere, making it even messier than usual. Fefe Dobson's I Want You was playing and I was singing along, tapping on my steering wheel with the beat, looking at every house, one by one, expecting to see the address I had on the piece of paper in my hand.

I wasn't really familiar with this part of the city. It was the older part of it, with the rich people's houses. I remembered all the times my mom had drove around here, looking at the houses, marvelling over them, and over their garden. She always had a thing for pretty things.

Don't think about her Lexi, there's no use anymore, I repeated in my head, and then kept singing and driving.

Finally, I saw the number I was looking for, but it wasn't on a house, it was on a freaking gate.

A gate?

What the hell?

The huge metal gate was surrounded a big grey rocky walls on both sides, to go around their property.

I couldn't see over the wall but I could see through the fence and there was a driveway, in the same rock as the walls, leading somewhere which I couldn't see exactly because of all the trees around, and of how far it stretched.

Okay, seriously what the hell?

Was this a joke?

That was exactly the kind of thing Blake could do, right? We had pretty much put the whole library and Stacey incident behind, even though I was still pretty curious about the why she had stormed out, but I had no doubt Blake could send me to some random huge house, with snobby people and then laugh tomorrow at me for going.

If that was what this was, I'd punched that sexy face of his.

No, no, not sexy face, dumb face. DUMB FACE.

I took a deep breath and turned into the driveway, making my way to his house. There were cedar trees on each sides of the driveway, and pines further behind and maple trees too, some of them already getting a little orange, red or yellow and I think I could actually see oak trees too, and other trees I couldn't name.

Seriously what the hell?

And then, finally, the house.

I really wasn't prepared for it.

I had seen the Lamborghini and I knew his parents were rich, but I really wasn't prepared for the house that stood in front of me. Because it didn't look like a house. It looked like a freaking mansion.

There was a fountain at the front, with a round parking around, but it wasn't really a fountain. It had the shape of a fountain but there wasn't water in it, it was actually filled with vines and other creeper plants.

And the house was huge. It was in a gray and sandy rocks, with great double doors at the front and a large balcony over it, supported by columns all beige, and there were creeper plants on the walls.

I just keep staring at it, trying to register every details, and then thought about the fact that I probably looked stupid, just waiting in my car, so I stopped the engine and got out of my car to walk slowly towards the front doors.

I walked up the few steps and froze in front of the imposing doors, but then I pressed on doorbell and waited, feeling anxious.

This had better be the right house. Blake had better not been pulling a joke on me because that would be the last one he'd make.

Suddenly, the door creeped open and a little head peeked out.

"How may I help you?" the small woman said in a strong Spanish accent. She had pitch black hair, brown eyes, wasn't over five feet three. There was just something about her that made me want to hug her. She looked so cute, even though she was obviously much older than me.

"I'm Lexi Grayson, I was supposed to meet Blake Eaton here, around three thirty. Is he there?" I asked in a small voice.

I didn't want to look threatening, if this was the wrong place I didn't want be chase out.

"Sure, sure, sure. Miss Grayson. Yes, yes come in," she started to say a little too enthusiastically and opened the door wide, urging me to come in.

Thank god, I thought but then I went OH MY GOD.

If I thought the outdoor had been over the top, I was really in for a surprise.

There were stairs that belong in the freaking Titanic right in front of me. There were doors to the rooms upstairs and then the rooms on this floor and I just turned my head to the right and there was a freaking living room that seemed to have come out of Buckingham Palace.

I was trying to stay coherent, but I couldn't. How could someone live in here? I would be scared to touch anything.

Oh my god, were my Converse staining the carpet?

I quickly slipped out of them and held them in my hands.

"Come, come," the maid said again walking up the first few stairs.

I looked around me, almost like a lost puppy, and followed her reluctantly up.

I kept looking around, but there were just too many things too see all at once. It really shouldn't be legal to have a house like that.

The cute woman stopped in front of a door and opened it, waiting beside, holding the doorknob in her hand.

"Get in, get in. Mister will come soon," she said and then she left leaving the door opened.

I stayed there for a few seconds, not so sure of what to do. Maybe this was all a set up and when I would walk in, someone would catch me and then kill me.

I should stop freaking to and just walk in.

I looked through the door and frowned when I saw a staircase.

Weird.

Nevertheless, I went up and then I reached a room.

Damn.

The room I had just stepped in couldn't be simply described as a bedroom. Of course, there was a bed in there, a huge king size bed that looked pretty inviting, but there was so much more.

The room was on two levels. There was the bed on the first one with a matching bedside table, and a working table in complete opposite with a pretty high-tech computer, the kind with like three screens, and beside it, a door, which was opened and I could see it was a bathroom, but that wasn't that floor that got me gasping.

No, it was the second floor, which separated from the first by four stairs with a wall, a complete wall, covered by shelves of books. There was so many of them, I was completely jealous. That floor looked pretty inviting, with a big couch that was probably comfy, a matching recliner and a wood table.

My feet dragged me to that floor, my mind blocking anything else but the library and then I was picking up books that were scattered everywhere on the table and the recliner and armrest of the couch, resting there, some opened, others almost folded, others closed.

H.G Wells, Robert Louis Stevenson, Turgenev, Oscar Wilde, Patrick Suskind, Ken Follett, Ralph Ellison... the list went on and on.

I saw Liam Hearn's Tales of the Otori, in the lot and I wanted to snatch it away because my version didn't have such a nice cover.

There were other books, Victor Hugo, Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt, Jules Verne, and all those books were in freaking French.

What the hell?

I took one by Jules Verne that looked more torn than the others, with the side of the pages orange that seemed pretty damn old and started to turn the pages. There were drawings now and then and when I looked at the printed date, I saw 1966.

"Oh my god, don't touch that," a voice yelled behind me, startling me completely.

A blushed a little and when I saw Blake's face filled with anger I was scared. Why was he so mad? Had I done something wrong?

Shit.

But then his face lighted up and he started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" I asked and I was the one mad now.

"You should have seen your face," he said between laughs.

"You know, you're a hateful shrew of a person," I scowled at him.

"Sure," Blake smirked.

"What's with the French books?" I asked him, shaking the one I had in my hands.

"I speak French you know Pumpkin," he said, climbing up the four stairs and walked over me.

"Yeah, right."

"And German and Spanish and a little Italian," he went on smirking and let himself fall on the couch. "But I'm better in French, well actually, I'm perfect."

"Yeah, right," I snorted again.

"I wanted to learn Thai, but I still struggle with the pronunciation and end up saying very inappropriate things," Blake kept saying not listening to me, flipping the pages of one of the books.

"You speak French? Prove it," I challenged him.

"Ah mais ça me ferait plaisir ma belle, mais de toute façon tu comprendras pas ce que je te dis. Je pourrais te dire une liste d'obscénités et juste te faire croire que c'était une citation de Baudelaire. Je pourrais aussi utiliser ma langue française sur toi mais je veux vraiment pas me faire botter les grelots aujourd'hui," he said and I was completely taken back.

I didn't get any of that.

Blake was smirking, clearly enjoying the fact that he had just shut me up.

"How did you learn French?" I asked him, deciding to just sit on the recliner.

"Didn't I told your dad I had travelled to Paris? And culture is important for my family," Blake trailed and then threw the book he had in his hand over the couch.

"You know what? Not only the French books. What about all the books?" I asked my eyes bulging when I looked at the library again.

I guess all of this was such a shock that I hadn't realized what was really going on. Because if this was his room, like it seemed to be, why the hell did he have a library?

Blake didn't read. He freaking dragged me to the library because he said he didn't know where it was. He had never told me about this.

"I think I already mentioned that Pumpkin, but you're quick to judge. Oh and unobservant," Blake smirked and picked another book, flipping the pages again.

"So what? You read?"

"You asked that like I was some sort of analphabetic chimp," Blake laughed.

"But, you're Blake... Blake the running back, the school jock," I started to mumbled.

"Aw Pumpkin, I expected more from you," Blake smirked.

"And I guess I didn't expect enough," I frowned.

What the hell was I missing too?

God, I really was unobservant wasn't I?

"Do you have perfect grades too, and lied about that?" I asked him.

"No, I really do suck at Chemistry, and Math, and Physic. God, I hate Physic. The mechanic thing I mean, not the body one," Blake smirked at me, and I leaned over the armrest and slapped his arm.

"Dumbass!"

"Thanks," Blake laughed and got up and started to walk away.

"Hey! Where are you going?" I asked and got up too.

"I'm starving, I'll ask Anita to cook me something. Want me to ask for you too?" Blake said, brushing his fingers in his hair, which was kinda sexy.

Alright, snap out of it Lexi.

"Sure. Hey wait. Anita, is that the woman that opened the door for me?" I asked him.

"Yeah why?"

"You have a maid? You know how cliché that is? Do you have a butler too?" I smirked.

"Laugh all you want, Anita's cooking rocks my world," Blake said shushing me with his hand and then walked out.

I rolled my eyes even though he was already out and then started to look around the room again.

The right side of the second floor was in fact a big window, opening to the forest, in a breathtaking view.

I stared through it and then looked at the wall, beside the stairs where there was some sort of big montage of pictures.

I walked in front of it and looked at them closely.

One of them was the same as the one I had seen as Blake's screen saver, with his brother he had said. Another one was at the exact same place but this time, there was a little girl in it. She was side-hugging Blake's brother, and Blake, just like an annoying little brother was trying to slip between the two of them. It actually made me laugh.

The little girl was cute. I had no idea who she was though. She had blonde hair and just the prettiest face I had ever seen.

On another picture, there was Blake with a brunette girl, a little younger than him, and she was clinging to his back and they were both laughing. I didn't know who she was either.

And then I frowned at another one. It was Blake and a girl, browned haired, but it wasn't the one clinging to his back, it oddly looked like the one in the picture with his brother, though, but she wasn't blonde on that one. She still had that beautiful face. They were both older on this one. She looked older than him. And Blake was kissing the tip of her nose that she had wrinkled it a little, like she was laughing, and he was smiling. The picture was actually quite nice, but I didn't know why, I didn't really like it. Who was this girl?

"Are you peeking Pumpkin?" Blake laughed beside me and I almost squealed in surprise.

I so hadn't heard him come back.

"Nice pictures," I mumbled, but Blake smirked at me. "What?"

"Go ahead, ask what you got on your mind," he laughed.

"Who is she?" I asked, pointing to the first brunette, the one on his back, the one I didn't mind as much.

"That's my little cousin Evelyn, well, she's not so little anymore," Blake smiled, and he had that protective older brother look again...

I wanted to stop asking, but I couldn't. The curiosity was burning my tongue.

"Who is she?" I asked pointing to the little blonde girl, not looking at the picture where she was browned haired and kissed by Blake.

"That's Kendal, well Ken. I've known her forever," he answered and smiled a little.

"And she's the one who broke your heart?" I asked, hit by another epiphany again.

"What?" Blake laughed a little.

"You know, the girl who broke that heart of yours and made you into the jerk you are," I said gleaming.

That would explain so many things! Didn't the jerk always have origin stories like that?

"Ken? Broke my heart?" Blake asked, laughing again.

"What? Is she your sister or something?" I frowned.

Was I completely off the track?

"No, but she's just like it. Didn't you have a look at that picture? Don't you see the way my brother and her look at each other?" Blake asked me, and he had a small smile on his lips, almost sad though, and I looked at the picture again, and I had to agree he was right.

So what? She was dating his brother? If that was it, what the hell did the other picture mean?

"So, what does that one mean?" I asked pointing to the picture where she was browned haired.

"Does it have to mean something?" Blake snorted. " I'm really close with her," he informed me.

"If I were your brother, I'd watch out for my girl. And I wouldn't let my little brother have a picture of her in his room."

"So what? You're the jealous type Pumpkin?" Blake smirked and went to lay back on his couch.

"I'm just saying. I wouldn't trust my brother, the ladies' man."

"Oh, I'm a ladies' man?" Blake laughed.

"Well, you've sure seen a lot of them," I snorted.

"That I have," Blake agreed, still laughing.

I went to sit back on the recliner and leaned my head back, and that's when I saw a painting, on the top of the arch, over the stairs.

It was the same setting as the pictures with Blake and his brother, but it was on fire. The trees looked like they were coming straight from the pages of a horror book, the branch black from the fire, the leaves burning or already turned to ashes. It was like an apocalypse painting almost. And then I think there was actually someone, burned in the flames.

"Why would you have a painting like that in your room, Blake?" I asked him frowning.

That was bound to give you nightmares.

"Because it's the last one I painted," Blake answered absentmindedly, a book in his hands.

What?

"You paint?" I asked, my voice raising.

"Oh Pumpkin, youreally know so little about me," Blake laughed.

______________

Hello my little Pumpkins! I hope you had a nice week. :D

The live reading for this chapter should be on Sunday May 23rd, at 11AM EST (the time might change, I'll notify you on instagram) at instagram.com/kaygiard.

If you have any questions, just leave them here.

See you on Sunday! <3